


God of Mischief, King of Lies

by VermontScribble



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Other, my version of mythology, starting with my angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VermontScribble/pseuds/VermontScribble
Summary: Loki has a bad day at school.
Relationships: Angrboða | Angerboda/Loki (Norse Religion & Lore), Mentioned at least - Relationship, None
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	God of Mischief, King of Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Something written mostly for myself due to bad news I received today. I love my darling Loki. Have him. He's a goth and he's already got a tattoo at 15. He cannot be stopped.

When he was born, everyone had adored Loki. His brothers (and sister, who was frequently ignored) heard no end of the praises and the darling coos made in his general direction. He was a darling boy, some said. Others called him adorable, cute, sweetheart. His mother had referred to him strictly by name, thinking the ridiculous pet names made her child seem more like, well, a  _ pet _ . 

Loki never seemed to mind being crowded by far too many family members leaning over him with kind smiles. He grabbed at hair and tugged on beards, pulled necklaces, wrestled with hooped earrings and attacked flowing fabrics that hung too close to his tiny grasp. He was a darling little child with the sweetest little face. 

It didn’t last long. 

Loki soon became a teenager, just as everyone had to. But little did his parents know that he was about to become the most troublesome, meddling and infuriating little brat they’d ever had. 

* * *

It was an evening like any other. Laufey embroidered another meticulous letter into a square of fabric whilst Fárbauti watched the television. They never considered this sort of evening as boring, and they rather liked the lack of conversation. Every other day they were talking about one issue or another and yapping on about the importance of grades and whatnot. 

Loki stormed in like Hél had thawed. He almost shattered a carefully hung photo when he slammed the door, the force shuddering the entire house. The snarl he wore was ferocious, like that of a raging wolf. He lobbed his bag halfway across the room as if it were a football and threw his shoes into a corner where they sat looking rather sorry for themselves. He stomped up to his room and said nothing. 

“Fár,” Laufey prompted gently. Fárbauti looked over to her with a serious expression. Laufey put down her fabric, but he shook his head. 

“No, you continue your work, I’ll talk to him. Love those flowers, by the way, very good,” Fárbauti said as he made his way to the living room door. Laufey gave him a soft smile and looked at her work with a new sense of appreciation for it. She hoped Loki was alright. She sat and waited, fingers crossed. 

* * *

“Loki Laufeyson. I hope you’ve got something to say for yourself,” Fárbauti said. His voice remained calm, as he believed it was a last resort to shout at a child. Loki might have been 15, but that was still young, and Asgard knows Laufey hated the idea too. 

“No,” Loki said, throwing his tennis ball against the wall. His room smelled of spicy incense and soft lavender. His alter had been meticulously arranged with an offering. Placed just below it, tucked halfway under the curtain that covered the table was a box filled with crystals and cards. Fárbauti wondered what for. 

“What’s with the angst? Someone grind your gears?” Fárbauti asked again, trying to get something out of his son. Loki rolled his bright green eyes and got up, dropping the tennis ball into a box inside his closet. 

“No,” He said again, closing the door. Hanging on it is a runic tassel of some sorts. The wall beside it is covered with a tapestry and posters. 

“So why did you slam the door? Why throw your things? What was that hissy fit for?” Fárbauti asked, voice now slightly raised. He keeps a cool tone and looks around at his son’s room more. Laufey catered to the fact her son had become very gothic, and Fárbauti was slowly accepting it wasn’t a phase. 

“I dunno. School is shit, I guess,” Loki groaned, grabbing at his latest journal. He kept a lot of them on his bookshelves of black and grey. Fárbauti wondered why Loki bothered with writing. He was a kid, surely they preferred technology. 

“Why? What happened?” Fárbauti sat at the end of Loki’s bed and looked at his son from a distance. Loki’s desk was immaculate; it was almost frightening. Laufey had been the clean one in the family so her son learnt that from her, it seemed. 

“It doesn’t matter,” 

“Yes, Loki, as a matter of fact it does. Your mother’s worried,” Fárbauti said with a colder tone. Loki shrugged, closing the journal slowly and putting his perfectly organised pens back into their places. 

“Got dumped. Then I fell over. Then I got mocked. Is  _ that _ what you wanted to hear?” Loki said, slightly angry. He groped around under his desk for his drink he’d shoved under there along with another box. He sipped it quietly. 

“How dare they. Bullies, eh? Who dumped you, old girlfriend?” 

“Who else. Who cares, I like boys anyway,” Loki mumbled. Fárbauti’s eyes widened slightly. He got up with a strange expression on his face. He said nothing more as he left Loki alone to reflect on what had happened at school. 

* * *

“So. Is he alright?” Laufey asked. Fárbauti sat down on the sofa and placed his hands on his knees. He looked at Laufey with a blank face. She cocked an eyebrow, wondering what had conspired. 

“He got dumped. Said he doesn’t care. That he prefers boys,” 

“Aw! Well, maybe he can find a boyfriend, then,” Laufey said as she finished another stitch. Fárbauti breathed a sigh of relief. He had wondered how Laufey would react to that news. 

“Ah, he fell over an’ all. Said nothing else about his leg but I can tell he scraped it. Wanna go check in on him?” 

Laufey put down her finished embroidered work and made her way upstairs, wringing her hands as she did. She felt some sort of way about her son being hurt. She hated it, as a matter of fact.

* * *

“Loki?” She asked, knocking gently on his door. She hears a grunt along with the distinct ‘smack’ of a book against a table. She looked to her feet and waited. 

“What? Didn’t believe dad? I’m fine. Go away,” He said with a huff. He goes to smack the door shut, but Laufey knows her son well and wedged her foot in the way. She looked to his knee with a cold look. 

“Did you cut yourself on anything when you fell? Does it still hurt?” She asked. Loki groaned again and retreated back into his room. She takes that as a ‘I don’t wanna talk about it’ and invites herself in, prepared to worry over him for the next hour. 

Her son was God of Mischief, but he’d become a right King of Lies. 

**Author's Note:**

> Send requests to my Tumblr (vermontwrites). Or email me (magpies0musings).


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